Halfway

It’s quite unfair,
that life’s a spiteful flight of stairs.
So we fly our kites from halfway there,
and fight the urge to stare.
At every extra passing by,
the best impressions of lasting lives.
Who cracked their canines, climbing high.
Past the halfway trapped youth, you and I.
Towards the top stair and goodnight.
But,
If we ever entered rooms above,
And let our engines idle, fuming love.
It’d be too hard to bend the truth,
And depart the seventh step with you.
With every look from their eyes
My mind entices me to hide,
And make a mocking bird of pride.
Knowing all the time,
I’m growing lost ‘neath Mr. Hyde.
Waiting for my lack of faith to break me,
While I try to survive.